The dealer of feelings

1.

"Hey." The quiet voice almost startles me. I did not expect more people today, especially at this time of the day. It's almost midnight; it's almost tomorrow. People are starting to lessen and the streets are starting to turn emptier and emptier. Now stray animals and the homeless are going to claim them. But I never thought there would still be people out here. Especially not here, under the bridge, so close to the canal.

"I'm going to need more shock. Have you got any?" I have lifted the bottle of wine to my lips - I am going to toast to myself, on my own, all alone - only to lower it and look around. I have no relatives left alive, and I cannot be bothered to go back to the cubbyhole of a rented flat I've got. My friends are either asleep somewhere warm right now, or high off their asses and rolling around in the gutter. Must be some potential client, then. These days I have had my fair share of those.

Though, if truth be told, my looks are enough of a reason for someone to decide to talk to me - and I am not saying I look shady. No. I have been born with eyes so blue they are on the verge of purple, a complete contrast to how pale my skin is and how fair - my hair. All of that thanks to a genetic condition that many don't truly even believe in - Alexandria's Genesis. And I, Alex Elroy, am irony himself.